


Counting The Days Till Real Life Arrives

by allyasavedtheday



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Restaurant, F/M, Fluff, I feel like this just gives way to copious amounts of domestic fluff halfway through?, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-16
Updated: 2013-08-16
Packaged: 2017-12-23 07:08:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/923411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allyasavedtheday/pseuds/allyasavedtheday
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Derek looks between them and heaves a long-suffering sigh. “Hi Stiles.”</p><p>Stiles gasps in mock incredulity and clutches his chest. “He said my name! D’you hear that Laura? The great Derek Hale actually said my name.”</p><p>Laura laughs and Derek rolls his eyes again."</p><p>When Stiles begins working at the Hales' restaurant he sees it merely as a way to pay his way through college. What he certainly doesn't expect is to become completely enraptured with trying to crack the puzzle that is Derek Hale</p>
            </blockquote>





	Counting The Days Till Real Life Arrives

**Author's Note:**

> I know nothing about working at a restaurant, architecture or anything to do with criminology besides common knowledge and I'm too lazy to research. So while there's no like, detailed descriptions of any of these things, if anything I've written is completely off base please just suspend reality for the sake of the fic :3
> 
> Characters do not belong to me! And the fic title comes from Waitress by BOY :)

Stiles likes working at the Hales’ restaurant. It’s small and out of the way but always has a steady string of customers. The whole place has a homely feel to it. He supposes that’s because the entire Hale family works there. Cora and Laura are waitresses. Robert is the chef – and a fantastic one at that, if Stiles says so himself. Talia comes in early every morning to bake the desserts and then doubles as a people greeter and waitress during opening hours. And Peter manages the accounts and all the finance – in other words, the things Stiles has zero interest in.

They also have a couple of casuals who come in for the holidays or to cover shifts when someone’s sick or needs a day off as well as a sous chef. But for the most part, it’s a family affair.

In fact, the only family member that doesn’t work there is Derek. He used to but now he’s finished college and is a fancy architect at an even fancier firm. Actually, he’s the only reason Stiles has a job there in the first place. When Derek left a “help wanted” sign was put up and Stiles snatched up the position of waiter before anyone else could. It’s not the best pay in the world but it’s helping him get through college and at least this way, he never has to pay for his own dinner.

It’s not like Derek’s never there though. He comes in every day after work for dinner and Stiles always ends up serving him. According to Laura and Cora he has no choice because they refuse to be their brother’s slaves and serve food to his stupid smug face – their words, not Stiles’.

Stiles was terrified when he first started because Derek is ridiculously intimidating and ridiculously attractive. Not to mention that he always seemed to scrutinize Stiles’ every move to make sure he was doing his job right. After a while though, Stiles got the hang of things and now he – thankfully – doesn’t get nervous around Derek. Okay, that’s a lie because Derek is still ridiculously attractive but he’s gotten better at hiding it.

Because now Stiles tries to get him to open up. He cracks jokes to try to get Derek to smile because he always looks stressed and attempts to engage him in conversation. He’s usually met with stony expressions and silence but it doesn’t deter him. Derek has a personality. He knows because he sees it when Derek’s with his family. He sees his sense of humour around Cora and Laura when he teases them. He sees his caring side when Derek talks to his mom and he always smiles softly at her. He sees – and appreciates – his sarcasm whenever Peter’s at the restaurant.

So Stiles keeps trying because something about Derek fascinates him and he wants to find out what.

*

Stiles finishes class early on Fridays so, rather than kicking off his weekend early, he gets the early shift at the restaurant and helps set up before they open at two.

Laura’s already there when he arrives, taking the upturned chairs off the tables. He nods at her in greeting and heads to the back room to dump his stuff before returning to help her.

“How’s life, Stiles?” is how she greets him – apparently she thinks “hello” is too mundane.

“Same as always:  _dazzling_.” He fakes a smile before letting it fall. He’s always exhausted by Friday and he doesn’t even want to _think_ about the monstrosity of a paper he’ll have to start once he gets home.

“Aww, poor baby,” Laura coos, ruffling his hair as he steps around her to grab another chair. “Maybe it’ll be quiet tonight.”

He hums in agreement just as the bell over the door tinkles, signalling Talia’s arrival. She kisses Laura on the cheek as she passes and does the same to Stiles on her way to the kitchen.

“Hey, Mrs Hale.” He smiles because it’s impossible not to smile at Mrs Hale when she has the sunniest personality out of anyone he’s ever met – with the exception of perhaps Scott. The fact that she’s also supremely sassy and mildly terrifying just makes Stiles love her more.

“Hi honey,” she answers warmly.

She comes back from the kitchen a few minutes later wearing her apron and carrying the most glorious chocolate cake he’s ever seen to put in the display case. His mouth waters and he checks his watch, groaning internally at the thought of waiting another six hours before he gets to eat something. Sometimes working in a restaurant really sucks.

Once all the chairs are righted, he helps Laura carry out all the table cloths and begins on setting the tables. He’s halfway through his section of the room when the bell above the door jingles again. He doesn’t look up, assuming it’s Cora or Robert but then he hears a familiar voice and his head snaps to the door.

“Hey mom,” Derek nods to his mother who’s still arranging desserts.

“Hey loser,” Laura says cheerfully before Derek can say anything to her. He rolls his eyes and plants himself at the table she’s straightening.

“We  _are_  closed, you know?” Laura points out, wearing an expression that says “Move or I’ll start throwing bread rolls at your head”. Laura’s very particular about her place settings.

Derek huffs but obliges, standing up and making a beeline for the table Stiles just arranged.

“Afternoon, sunshine,” Stiles grins.

Derek raises an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything. The guy’s  _impossible_.

“Be nice to Stiles,” Laura chastises, winking when Stiles catches her eye. Laura has a ridiculous belief that Stiles has a crush on her baby brother. Stiles likes to believe she’s crazy. (She also might be slightly right but she doesn’t need to know that)

Derek looks between them and heaves a long-suffering sigh. “Hi Stiles.”

Stiles gasps in mock incredulity and clutches his chest. “He said my name! D’you hear that Laura? The great Derek Hale actually said my name.”

Laura laughs and Derek rolls his eyes again. “I’m so glad mom hired you, Stiles,” she says when she catches her breath. “So much more fun with you around.”

Stiles preens and Laura laughs again, moving onto setting up Cora’s section of the room.

“So why  _are_  you here so early?” Stiles asks Derek as he carefully lays out the silverware and napkins on the table next to the one Derek’s currently occupying. “Your dad’s not coming in for another half hour so it’s not like there’s any food.”

“Just wanted to get away from the office,” Derek admits, slouching down in his chair. Clearly Stiles isn’t the only one who’s exhausted by Friday. He sets down the knife and fork he’d been holding and looks over at the display case that’s now filled with cakes. He looks back to Derek who’s fiddling with his phone and looking slightly more murderous than usual. He bites the inside of his cheek in deliberation before eventually deciding to grab a plate and head for the desserts.

Stiles crouches down behind the case, sliding back the glass door, and takes the biggest slice of red velvet cake they have, making sure to take it from the back so he doesn’t ruin the display.

When he stands back up again Talia is standing directly behind him with her hands on her hips and an eyebrow raised. Stiles yelps and does his level best not to drop the cake. His eyes flash quickly to Derek to see if he’s looked up at the commotion but he’s still staring at his phone. When he looks back, Talia’s smiling knowingly. He gives her a helpless shrug and her smile widens as she ushers him away from the case.

He strides over to Derek’s table already suppressing a grin – Derek  _loves_  red velvet cake, this has  _got_  to make him smile. He clears his throat when he reaches the table and sets the cake down. Derek stares at it and then up at him. He has that calculating look in his eyes again, like he’s scrutinizing Stiles, trying to figure him out. But when Stiles simply beams at him Derek’s lips curve up just the  _teeniest bit_  and he says, “Thank you.”

Stiles is totally counting it as a win.

*

Scott and Allison come in around 5:30 for their weekly Friday night dinner – even though, technically, it’s evening time but they always come in this early so Stiles will have a ride home when his shift finishes at seven.

Stiles stands behind the drinks counter, watching the way Allison’s eyes light up at whatever ridiculous story Scott’s telling, and smiles to himself. He’s glad someone appreciates everything about Scott the way Allison clearly does. And the fact that she’s stuck around for three years now really means something. At first he’d been worried that he might lose his best friend to a pretty face but instead the opposite happened; he gained a best friend in Allison and she has her very own spot as one of the most important people in his life now.

Too busy lost in his own thoughts; he doesn’t notice Cora sliding in next to him until she sighs wistfully. After a glance her way, he sees she’s staring longingly at Scott and Allison.

“I’m so freakin’ single,” she laments, propping her elbows on the counter and slouching down to rest her chin in her hands.

Stiles snorts, “Join the club.”

Cora gives him a wry smile before her eyes start wandering around the room to see if any plates need clearing or orders need taking. She catches Stiles’ attention again when she scoffs. “I think my brother may need more cake,” she suggests offhandedly.

Stiles follows her gaze and sees Derek still sitting in the same place he was in four and a half hours ago, very angrily hanging up the phone. Stiles stifles a groan. Angry Derek doesn’t like dealing with normal Stiles and today shouldn’t be an exception, proffered red velvet cake notwithstanding.

Still, he plasters a smile on his face, grabs another slice of cake and heads for Derek’s table. Derek only grunts an acknowledgement at the cake this time before he starts stabbing at it angrily with his fork. When he realises Stiles is still hovering he looks up. “Sit.”

It’s not a suggestion.

Stiles looks around to make sure he’s not needed before hesitantly pulling out a chair and sitting across from Derek.

“Tell me, Stiles,” Derek starts off in what is clearly about to be a scathing rant. “How long do you think it takes to design a house?”

“Uh…”

When he takes too long to answer Derek pins him with an intense glare. “I’ll tell you how long: a pretty long time if you’re going to do it right and to meet a customer’s needs.” He begins stabbing the cake again with each word to punctuate every syllable. “And it certainly doesn’t help when your boss won’t. Leave you. To work. In.  _Peace_.”

Understanding dawns on Stiles as he realises why Derek’s been hiding here all day and why he’s so irritable that he’s resorted to comfort eating.

Except Stiles is terrible at comforting people. Okay that’s not true. Crying and upset, he can handle. Angry at the boss and life in general is not his forte.

“Um…I’m sorry?” he tries and gets a scowl for all his efforts.

Stiles slumps in his chair, racking his brain for something encouraging to say. He barely catches it when Derek grumbles something like, “it doesn’t matter”.

Stiles feels bad for the guy. The poor dude looks like he needs a lifetime’s worth of massages to relieve the stress that’s just oozing off him.

“Y’know what I do when I’m angry?” he tries again. “Throw water balloons off my roof.”

“Did you get the idea from One Tree Hill?” Derek asks – and dear god he’s being one hundred per cent serious.

At Stiles’ raised eyebrow he shrugs, “I have two sisters.” Derek says by way of answer – which, yeah okay, makes sense.

“Well, I didn’t,” Stiles continues but then Derek actually interrupts him and he’s so surprised, he lets him.

“You don’t strike me as the type to throw water balloons at unsuspecting citizens,” he comments appraisingly.

“I’m not. I usually do it in the middle of the night. Or whenever I see Jackson walk past. Jackson’s my friend,” Stiles explains. “Well, kind of. Jackson’s also a douche.”

Derek looks faintly amused before his expression drops again and he seems pretty much done with the conversation.

“So…yeah. If you ever want to invest in some water balloons, you know where to find me.” Stiles stands up awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck for lack of something to do. He’s about to zoom past Derek to clear a table that’s just emptied when a hand catches his wrist.

Stiles pauses and looks down at his wrist before his eyes travel back up to meet Derek’s.

“Thanks Stiles.” Stiles is blown over by how completely, utterly sincere those words sound - so of course he makes a joke. God forbid he actually enjoyed a genuine moment with Derek Hale.

“A “thank you” twice in one day? Careful, I might actually start to think you’re nice,” he says lightly.

Derek quirks an eyebrow at him, giving him a surprised little smile. It’s possible that that gesture alone makes Stiles’ day.

It’s also possible that Stiles’ is kind of freaking out about that fact.

*

Stiles is bone tired by the time his shift is over and Scott all but carries him to the car. He spends most of the journey home resting his eyes in the back seat while Allison and Scott talk quietly in the front.

Of course he doesn’t have the luxury of collapsing on his bed for a romantic evening alone with dinner from the restaurant and Netflix because when they get home Lydia and Jackson are already on the couch.

Stiles would like to point out that the apartment really only belongs to himself and Scott but try telling that to everyone else. They all have spare keys that Stiles doesn’t remember giving them and they take every opportunity to use them.

Allison, he understands, but the apartment Jackson shares with Danny is like a freaking mansion in comparison to Scott and Stiles’ tiny box so he really doesn’t understand why they’re all always over here.

“Ugh  _finally!”_  Lydia drawls when they come through the door. “Come on, let’s go. We’re going to miss the movie.”

And Stiles really isn’t in the mood for playing fifth wheel tonight. Curse Danny for actually having a likeable personality and always scoring a date for Friday night.

“Can’t we just stay in?” Stiles whines, flopping onto the space on the couch Lydia and Jackson just vacated.

Scott, once again, proves why he’s Stiles’ best friend by grinning good-naturedly and planting himself on the couch, lifting Stiles’ legs up momentarily and then settling them on his lap. “Yeah, Stiles is tired. Let’s just stay in and watch a movie here.”

Allison smiles at Scott and Stiles with hearts in her eyes and it pleases Stiles enough for him to willingly remove his legs from Scott’s lap and rearrange himself so she can sit on the couch too.

Lydia huffs but otherwise really doesn’t look all that put out. Jackson actually looks a little grateful if the way he sinks into the armchair almost immediately is anything to go by. And then Lydia’s all too happy to curl up in Jackson’s lap and let him play with her hair.

Stiles drags himself off the couch long enough to heat up his food and returns for the opening credits of Dear John – Lydia and Allison clearly won the coin toss then. Stiles doesn’t particularly care since he’ll be lucky to make through the entire thing without falling asleep anyway.

*

Stiles is in that magical land between sleep and awake when his phone buzzes from where it sits precariously on his stomach, waking him up.

 **From Laura:**  Why is Derek throwing water balloons off our roof?

Stiles instantly feels more awake and grins to himself. Derek took his advice then. He tries not to read into it and fails miserably.

“Stiles, why are you smiling? He’s going off to  _wa_ _r _!__ ” Scott demands looking a little misty eyed.

Stiles drops his phone and blinks at his friend. “What? Sorry buddy. Laura just text me something.”

Lydia gets a mischievous glint in her eyes that he does not trust  _at all_  and before he can even really process what’s happening she bounds out of Jackson’s arms, snatches his phone and returns to her seat, looking studiously at the screen.

Stiles manages an indignant squawk before she looks up, puzzled. “Derek?”

Scott looks over at Stiles confusedly, “Derek Hale?”

“Laura text me, not Derek,” he corrects, stomping over to Lydia and holding out his hand for his phone. She gives it to him reluctantly but not before letting Jackson get a look at the message too.

“Laura text you  _about_  Derek,” Lydia clarifies. “Why would she do that?” she asks innocently. Yeah right. Lydia’s about as innocent as a shark.

“We saw you talking to him today, Stiles,” Allison says. At least she has the decency to look sheepish.

“So? I work with his entire family. Why wouldn’t I talk to him?” Stiles absolutely does not pout.

“It just looked like a pretty intense conversation that’s all,” Scott shrugs, effectively managing to end the conversation. But Stiles doesn’t miss the look he gives him – the one that says “we’re gonna have a manly talk about feelings when everyone else goes home”.

Everyone else returns their attention to the TV screen and when Stiles thinks it’s safe, he fires a quick text to Laura.

 **To Laura:**  He needed some stress relief. I gave him a suggestion

 **From Laura:** I can think of other ways you could help him relieve stress, Stiles

Okay that’s definitely an inappropriate thing for Stiles to be discussing with Derek’s  _sister._

*

Saturday is remarkably uneventful for the most part. Stiles, thankfully, doesn’t have a shift at the restaurant until seven so he takes advantage of his lazy day by sleeping until midday. Scott’s already left for work at the animal clinic by the time he wakes up but Allison, the darling that she is, makes him coffee and toast and settles herself down on the bed next to him so they can have their weekly Saturday morning chat.

“So, how’re you holding up?” she asks all motherly as she takes a sip of her tea.

Stiles chomps on a piece of toast and gives her a confused look, “What d’you mean?”

“You just seemed really stressed yesterday and you fell asleep before ten o’clock.  _On a Friday night_ ,” she says with a pointed look. “Is the restaurant and school becoming too much?”

Stiles melts a little bit at the concerned look on her face. “Allison, I’m  _fine_ ,” he assures her, nudging her shoulder with his own. “Some days are just more stressful than others.”

She still doesn’t look particularly happy but she nods. “Just remember to take care of yourself.”

“Why would I do that when I have you to do it for me?” he asks sweetly, batting his eyelashes. Allison’s been like a mom and a sister to him all rolled into one ever since they all moved out for college. She baby’s him even when she doesn’t mean to.

She rolls her eyes and shoves him, moving to heave herself off the bed. “I’m going to hog all your hot water to take a shower and then I’m going home,” she tells him, sticking her tongue out. But then she leans back over the bed once more to ruffle his hair before calling, “Be good!” over her shoulder and practically gliding from the room. Allison’s a Disney princess so he supposes that it’s a prerequisite that she glides everywhere instead of walking like the rest of world.

By the time Allison leaves, Stiles is sprawled out on the couch with his laptop balancing on his lap and books all over the floor, ready to make some headway with his paper. It’s actually kind of nice in a way. Sometimes, if he’s in the right mood, he can lose himself completely in his work and block everything else out. He’s relieved to realise now is one of those times as he turns on his I-tunes and he opens a word document.

He doesn’t stop writing until about five when he gets a text from Scott, saying he’ll be home soon. Stiles rubs his eyes and saves his half-finished work. He still has an hour and a half before he has to leave for the restaurant so he half-heartedly tidies up around the apartment before showering and ordering dinner for himself and Scott.

Scott comes through the door with the pizza Stiles ordered for them forty-five minutes before Stiles has to leave. They sit at their tiny kitchen table because despite what Lydia thinks they  _can_  sit and eat civilly like the rest of the human race.

They eat in silence for a few minutes but Scott keeps shooting him these furtive glances and Stiles is just  _waiting_  for the inevitable shoe to drop.

“So, Derek…” Scott starts.

There it is.

Stiles groans and drops his head on the table. “No.”

“I saw how you looked at him Stiles,” Scott accuses – even though he has a really special talent of making it not sound like an accusation.

“And how exactly was that?” Stiles questions, raising his eyebrows.

“Like…” Scott frowns trying to find the right words. “Like he was someone really important.”

Stiles’ mouth drops open at that. He didn’t expect Scott’s answer to be so…genuine.

So, Stiles kind of likes Derek. The dude’s hot okay and he has  _eyes_. That much is obvious. And yes, he’s been spending the last four months working at the restaurant trying to crack the puzzle that is Derek Hale. But that doesn’t mean he’s… _in like_  with Derek. Stiles just likes puzzles.

Stiles closes his mouth and narrows his eyes at Scott, pointing a slice of pizza at him. “I don’t like Derek. I hardly  _know_ Derek except for what his family tells me.”

Scott nods supportively and says, “Whatever you say, Stiles,” with a big grin but Stiles knows he’s just placating him.

Scott doesn’t believe him for one second.

Stiles doesn’t really believe himself either.

*

Stiles arrives at work to find the place almost full. He hurries to the back room just off the kitchen to grab his apron but is stopped in his tracks by Cora, holding up a plastic bag full of food containers.

“I’ve got a different job for you today,” she says, grinning.

Stiles has a bad feeling about this. “Which is…?”

“Bringing this to Derek,” she answers nonchalantly, trying to hand off the bag to him.

Stiles immediately tries to protest. With the exception of yesterday, Derek doesn’t really enjoy his company and with the talk with Scott still fresh in his mind, Stiles just  _knows_  he’ll do something stupid if subjected to Derek’s stupidly attractive face.

“Why can’t Laura do it?” he whines.

“Because we’re busy and she’s a better waiter than you.”

“I resent that,” Stiles scowls, crossing his arms petulantly.

Cora shrugs unapologetically. “Look Derek’s been working on sketches all day which means he hasn’t been eating all day and  _won’t_  eat unless the food is put on top of his drawings.”

“If I put food on top of his sketches, he’ll eat  _me_ ,” Stiles cries - a tad dramatically, he can admit.

Cora bites her lip, repressing a smirk and digs a set of keys out of her apron pocket. “All you have to do is drop the food off and leave. You can even use Laura’s car. Pleeeeease.”

Stiles sighs and takes the bag and keys from her. “Fine but if I’m not back in half an hour, your brother’s probably murdered me for breathing on his blueprints.”

She snorts and pushes past him, leaving Stiles to head for Laura’s car.

*

Stiles braces himself before he knocks on the door to Laura and Derek’s apartment. What he doesn’t expect is for Derek to wrench the door open, stare at him and slam it shut again.

Stiles gapes at the closed door, slightly baffled, before knocking again. “Come on, Derek! Open up.”

The door comes flying open and Derek glares at him. “No.” And then he slams it  _again_.

Well, Stiles isn’t having any of this. He’s going to get Derek to let him in if it kills him…Okay, so that’s a bit extreme. He knocks again, not stopping even when he speaks up to coax Derek out of the apartment. “Just let me drop off the food and I’ll go away…I can do this all night, you know. I’ll just keep knocking until I eventually wear a hole in the door or you-“

The door’s open and Derek looks a bit like he wants to kill Stiles. But whatever, the door’s open, that’s all that matters.

Derek looks him up and down, eyes lingering on the bag of food before rolling his eyes and stalking back through the apartment. Stiles follows cautiously, glancing around curiously to see paper everywhere. He ends up in the kitchen with Derek and the place kind of looks like a tree exploded. Drawings are stuck to every surface, there’s balled up bits of paper littering the floor and a few stray pencils that must’ve fallen off the table.

“Just set it down over there,” Derek instructs, pointing to a space on the counter he just cleared. Stiles obliges and for the first time, he actually lets his eyes travel to Derek.

He’s wearing a tank top which… _not fair_. Stiles knew there were magnificent arms hiding beneath all those dress-shirts and suit jackets. His sweatpants are just the littlest bit too big for him which is ridiculously, adorably endearing. His hair is slightly dishevelled like he continually ran his hands through it. All in all, he manages to look like an Adonis, but a very cute Adonis and Stiles is like ninety-nine per cent positive that’s illegal. 

Derek clears his throat and Stiles realises he’s basically just been staring at the guy’s body for the past two minutes. He looks around frantically, eyes landing on a sketch, “Hey, this is good.”

“Stiles.”

Derek’s giving him that expectant “go away” look.

“Right. Yeah, there’s your food.” He gestures to the counter before making a beeline out of the kitchen. “Make sure you actually eat it.”

“It’s a restoration project,” Derek says and Stiles stops in his tracks.

He swivels around and sees Derek rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably. “The sketch you were looking at. It’s a restoration project.”

Stiles feels a grin spread across his face. Derek just voluntarily gave up information about himself for the second day in a row. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t internally flailing right now. “It’s good,” he tells him.

Derek actually looks a little bashful at that and it does things to Stiles’ brain.

“Thanks for the food,” Derek says even though it sounds like something else entirely – even if Stiles can’t tell what that something else is.

Stiles nods as a sort of “you’re welcome,” and then they’re just standing in Derek’s kitchen almost smiling at each other but not quite. Eventually Stiles remembers he does actually have a job to go to and that that’s why he came over here in the first place.

“Well, I better get back to the restaurant,” he says, somehow managing to phrase it like a question.

Derek nods and follows him as he makes his way back to the front door. “See you next week, Stiles.” It sounds like a promise.

“See you.” Stiles smiles softly as he steps through the threshold.

As soon as the door closes behind him he slumps against it, letting go of the breath he didn’t even know he’d been holding. There isn’t much point in denying it anymore. He likes Derek. As in not just attraction but he’s really, truly stupidly enamoured with him after three half-decent conversations.

He’s so screwed.

*

He’s not sure when it happens but sometime between one moment with Derek and the next, Stiles stops trying to figure him out and instead just puts all his effort into trying to get Derek to smile.

What’s more is that it works seventy-five per cent of the time now. In the following few weeks, every time Stiles cracks a joke or gives Derek an extra bright smile, Derek’s eyes soften a little and if Stiles is lucky, he receives a smile in return.

The effect it’s having on him is noticeable and he knows it. He spends a lot of time smiling at nothing now and he watches the restaurant door religiously when he’s working. Laura notices, obviously, and teases him mercilessly but he just pretends he doesn’t know what she’s talking about. Cora keeps giving him knowing smiles but as of yet she hasn’t actually said anything.

His friends notice too but they don’t actually  _know_  why Stiles is happy. They just think he’s been drinking too much caffeine. Scott’s the only one Stiles suspects at having inkling as to what’s going on but since their conversation about Derek three weeks ago he hasn’t said a word.

Stiles supposes there isn’t much to say really. He and Derek aren’t together. Derek doesn’t even know that Stiles likes him. Stiles doesn’t even know  _if_  Derek likes him. He just feels like he’s made some sort of breakthrough. Like the wall Derek always has up around Stiles has a little crack in it now. And now he can see Derek a little clearer. And he really, really likes what he sees.

*

The restaurant is hosting a Halloween party – or rather; a masquerade black tie event (aka what Laura wants, Laura gets) And Stiles doesn’t mind having to work because it’s not like he had big plans for Halloween anyway and all his friends are coming to the party so it’s not like he won’t see them.

The party’s in full swing when Stiles sees Derek for the first time. He’s wearing a suit that’s definitely tailored to fit because Stiles didn’t know fabric could hug a person’s figure that well. He’s wearing a mask that covers half his face and in totally unrelated news, Stiles is suddenly starting to think he might be developing a Phantom of the Opera kink. Go figure.

Derek is intercepted by Cora almost immediately and he laughs with her about something Stiles can’t hear. Cora catches his eye from where he’s practically leaning over the drinks counter to try and hear what they’re saying and she grins. He quickly straightens and starts pouring more wine, steadfastly staring at the task at hand.

He doesn’t look away until someone taps on the counter and he looks up to see Derek standing there, looking positively delectable and that’s just  _not fair_.

Derek leans against the counter, picking up a glass of wine from the tray Stiles is filling.

“Enjoying the party?” Stiles asks politely – his brain can’t even comprehend being anything other than stiltedly polite right now when Derek looks like he does.

“Mmm, my friends aren’t here yet though so there’s not much to do,” Derek answers regretfully.

“Pity,” Stiles intones, mood turning sour – he should’ve known Derek only came to talk to him because he’s bored. “I’m sure there’s plenty of young women and men here that would die to keep you company.”

Derek arches the eyebrow that isn’t hidden beneath his mask but otherwise doesn’t comment on Stiles’ apparent snappiness.

He feels stupid acting like this. He and Derek actually have been making a lot of progress in the friend department and he’d been starting to think Derek was maybe beginning to see him a little differently. And now he’s acting like a petulant child because Derek looks fucking edible and Stiles wants him and he can’t have him.

Derek doesn’t leave though. He hangs around Stiles until Stiles has to start handing out drinks again. When he gets back to the counter Derek’s gone and he tries not to feel too dejected.

Stiles isn’t sure what time it is when Laura’s shoving him out from behind the counter and telling to go mingle.

“But-“

“Stiles, I know it’s Halloween but you’re scaring the customers,” Laura says. “Go find your friends and have some fun. I can take over for a while.”

Stiles thinks about protesting but eventually concedes. “Thanks.”

Laura simply waves him away with a smile.

He heads for the bathroom and decides to try to make himself look at least a little presentable, picking up a discarded mask from a table on the way.

He stands in front of the mirror and unbuttons the top few buttons of his white uniform shirt, undoing his customary bowtie and letting it hang around his neck. He rolls up the sleeves of his shirt to his elbows and tries, in vain, to fluff up his hair a bit. Sighing at the fluffy mess atop his head, he picks up the mask from the sink. It’s silver, simple and only covers his eyes.

He has to admit, he doesn’t actually look half bad. Deeming himself somewhat acceptable he heads back into the party in search of Scott and Allison or Lydia and Jackson or even Danny and the guy he’s been dating; Ethan something.

Either Stiles’ friends’ masks are really effective or they’re all off in dark corners making out – probably the latter. Stiles continues searching for them for a few more minutes before giving up and deciding to step outside to get some air. As soon as he steps outside, he wishes he hadn’t. Because there’s Derek leaning against the wall, one foot propped up against it, looking like he just walked off a GQ photoshoot.

Stiles can’t even think about running away because Derek’s eyes zero in on him almost immediately.

His eyes widen and it’s a little hilarious since Stiles can only see one of them properly but then Derek’s looking him up and down in a way that’s totally un-funny and  _really_  suggestive and Stiles is frozen in place.

“ _Stiles?”_ Derek says disbelievingly.

“Hey,” he answers, moving to lean against the wall next to Derek – he may as well  _try_  to look like he’s in control of the situation.

Derek’s eyes follow him the whole time. “You look…different. From earlier, I mean.”

“Laura told me take a break and mingle,” he replies nonchalantly.

“Laura’s full of great ideas,” Derek agrees.

“Mmm.”

The silence feels stilted and heavy, like there’s something neither of them are saying but are dying to. Well, Stiles knows what  _he_  wants to say, he doesn’t know about Derek though.

“Stiles.”

Stiles rolls his head to the side and he totally doesn’t remember Derek standing so close a second ago. He almost bumps his nose off Derek’s. Derek looks like he forgot what he was going to say because his eyes widen just a bit and his lips part in surprise. And Jesus, Stiles wants to lean in so bad.

He almost does but then-

“Stiles! There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for- I- oh.”

Cora’s standing in the doorway to the restaurant, gawking at them. When Stiles jumps away from Derek quickly and Derek turns to his little sister, her gaze turns sheepish. “Sorry,” she mumbles. Stiles doesn’t know what look Derek gave her but he can guess – actually, strike that, he can  _hope_.

“It’s fine!” he says quickly, tripping over himself to get passed Derek and back inside. “I should get back to work. Later Derek!”

Stiles refuses to look back to see Derek  _or_  Cora’s expression.

*

It’s four days after the Halloween party and there’s been a storm brewing all day. It finally breaks around 9pm night with a clap of thunder and a flash of lightning. Stiles is at the restaurant which is empty for the most part; Talia and Robert decided around eight that they’d be better off closing up early with the weather.

Since the road to the Hale house is prone to flooding Stiles tells them to leave, promising that he’ll close up. They thank him profusely and tell him to be careful driving in the rain. As the last few stragglers leave the restaurant, Stiles sends Cora with them, giving her the same speech he gave her parents. She looks reluctant to go but then Laura breezes into the room and tells her to hurry up if she wants a ride. She winks at Stiles and he doesn’t understand why until he realises Derek is still there. They hug him goodbye, he tells them be careful and they say the same and then he’s alone with Derek.

Derek’s sitting at an empty table, staring out the window when Stiles looks at him.

“You gonna keep me company while I clean up, huh?” Stiles grins, starting to clear off the few tables where plates remain.

Derek pulls his eyes away from the window until they land on Stiles and he hums in answer. Stiles is only a little bit surprised when he gets up and starts putting chairs on the tables. They work in companionable silence for a while until all the chairs are off the floor and Derek confides quietly, “I don’t really like driving during storms.”

Stiles pauses in sweeping the floor and looks up. Derek’s hand is curled tightly around the leg of a chair and he’s looking at it intently.

It’s strange seeing Derek looking vulnerable. Stiles doesn’t really understand why he said it but he knows sometimes people tell you things simply because they want you to know, because you’re the person they want to be able to tell things to. Stiles kind of hopes that’s what this is.

“Well, I’m not going home until the rain stops,” he offers. “You can hang out with me until then, if you want?”

“And do what?” Derek looks dubious and a little guarded. He’s been giving Stiles a lot of looks like that over the past few weeks. Stiles has since named it “the face Derek makes when he’s intrigued by Stiles but is frustrated because he doesn’t want to be”.

Stiles shrugs, “Eat, I guess.”

“I-“

There’s another clap of thunder and then the restaurant is plunged into darkness. Derek sighs and Stiles can’t see him but he can almost  _feel_  him rolling his eyes.

*

When the lights go out, they light all the candles on the tables and Stiles goes straight for the freezer, declaring that they need to eat all the ice-cream. Right now they’re sitting on the floor between some tables and Stiles has pins and needles in his foot but he really doesn’t care.

“Why are we eating ice-cream again?”

“Because it’ll melt otherwise!” Stiles says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “We’re doing your family a service here.”

Derek grins and it’s incredibly distracting, Stiles takes another spoonful of ice-cream so he doesn’t have to look at him.

They make idle chit-chat and, considering that they’re sitting on the floor in a blackout while a storm rages outside, Stiles is really enjoying himself. Derek’s one of those people who you can sit in silence with without it being uncomfortable but at the same time he’s one of those people that makes you want to divulge all your innermost thoughts because he looks like he can keep a secret.

“So what d’you wanna do, Stiles?” Derek asks after a while, setting down his pint of ice-cream and moving onto the piece of cake he snagged from the display case earlier.

“What d’you mean?”

“With your life!” Derek clarifies – he also might be slightly tipsy since they cracked open a bottle of wine too. “What are you doing in college?”

“Criminology,” Stiles answers, feeling a little giddy that Derek’s asking about him, is  _interested_  in him. “My dad’s a sheriff. I’ve wanted to follow in his footsteps since I can remember. I’m gonna be a detective,” he adds proudly.

Derek smiles the kind of smile Stiles is starting to think means that Derek finds him cute. It makes him irrationally happy. “I suppose working in a restaurant is very beneficial for that,” Derek comments teasingly.

“You’d be surprised how much you can learn about people just by watching them for a couple of hours.”

“Is that so?” Derek gets a glint in his eyes and grins. “Can you read me?”

 _I’ve only be trying to do just that for almost five months,_  he thinks. He bites back a smile and nods.

Derek’s eyebrows shoot up and he gestures to Stiles as if to say “go for it”.

“Well,” Stiles starts. “You come off as cold and surly and you’ve got this big tough guy act but you’re actually a big softie. Because you really love your parents and you like when your mom brushes your hair back off your face even though you won’t admit it. You like to torture your sisters and they do the same to you but you’d protect them in a heartbeat. No one can get into a verbal sparring match with your uncle quite like you can. You stress yourself out because you constantly want to prove yourself even though you don’t need to because your family’s already proud of you.”

Derek stares at him, awed, with his mouth slightly parted and Stiles surges on before he loses his nerve. “You find me interesting and it annoys you that you do. And I’m pretty sure you want to kiss me.”

Stiles looks up hopefully from beneath his eyelashes and Derek finally snaps back to life. “I am not  _surly_.”

“That’s what you took from that?!” Stiles asks incredulously. “I just said you wanted to kiss me!”

“I heard you,” Derek says. There’s playfulness in his tone.

“Are you going to do something about it?”

Derek looks contemplative, his eyes flicking all over Stiles face before settling on his lips. When he drags his eyes back up to meet Stiles’ gaze he smirks. “Maybe.”

Stiles stares at him open-mouthed before huffing. “You’re the  _worst_.”

“But you still wanna kiss me,” Derek points out.

He’s not wrong.

*

Stiles wakes to light filtering through the room at odd angles, with an aching back and a stiff neck. He’s also pretty sure his ass is numb. Cracking an eye open, he takes in his surroundings and remembers he’s at the restaurant, leaning against a table leg. He sits up from his slouch, his back cracking painfully, and his gaze floats to Derek sitting across from him in a position similar to his own.

He shoves Derek’s knee with his foot because he doesn’t have the strength or presence of mind to try and wake him up any other way. Derek snuffles a bit before his eyes flutter open. He looks around dazedly before looking at Stiles. He smiles sleepily and Stiles’ heart just about melts.

“Hi,” he mumbles tiredly as Stiles rolls onto his knees and grabs onto the table to haul himself up. He stumbles a bit and Derek lifts a hand from where he’s sitting to steady him.

Stiles smiles gratefully, catching hold of Derek’s hand to pull him up. The force or maybe the exhaustion causes Derek to lose his footing and fall against him. They’re pressed close with their joined hands between them and Stiles wonders idly whether Derek’s pupils are dilated because it’s pretty dim inside or for some other reason.

Derek’s eyes map out every inch of Stiles’ face, pausing on his lips – just like last night. And Stiles knows what’s coming. He could be the one to close the distance, to surge forward until there’s nothing separating them but he kind of wants to see what Derek will do.

Derek’s lips quirk up just a tad and he leans in, nosing at Stiles’ skin. Stiles’ eyes fall shut contentedly when he feels a chaste brush of lips against his own. It’s the slightest of pressures, a feather-light touch and the single most perfect moment in Stiles’ life.

Technically, they pull away. But is it really pulling away when they barely move at all? Their lips are just shy of touching now and their foreheads and noses brush together. And part of Stiles is aware that he probably has morning breath and really needs to brush his teeth and his neck is killing him. But all he can think about right now is the way Derek’s eyelashes flutter against his as he opens his eyes. Or the way Derek’s smile is barely there but it still manages to reach his eyes.

“I knew you wanted to kiss me,” Stiles breathes.

Derek chuckles and actually takes a step back, letting their hands fall but still keeping them clasped. “And I said I was going to do something about it.”

“No, you said “maybe”,” he reminds as Derek leads him to the door.

“Since when has “maybe” ever not meant “yes”?” Derek asks with a smirk, unlocking the door and pulling it open. “Go home and get some real sleep, I’ll clean up after us.”

Stiles nods because he really is exhausted and if he leaves now he can still get a few more hours sleep before his friends inevitably wake him up. He grabs his stuff from the table by the door with his free hand and turns back to Derek, pressing their lips together. “Bye,” he murmurs into Derek’s mouth.

Stiles walks out the door only to get a couple of steps and be pulled back in by the hand holding Derek’s. Their lips slot together once again and Stiles could seriously get used to this. Because kissing Derek feels like flying and Stiles has always wished he could fly.

It takes another fifteen minutes before he actually leaves the restaurant and makes it to his car.

*

Stiles has the next week off - which he completely forgot about. He’d asked Robert about a month ago because one of his term papers that’s worth a hefty portion of his grade is due this week and he wanted the time off to focus on it. Robert, being Robert, very happily obliged. And while Stiles is super appreciative because he really does need to focus in order to get his assignment finished, he’s also a little bummed because it means not seeing Derek for a whole week after their sleepover in the restaurant.

And because Stiles is such a bright spark, he doesn’t realise he doesn’t have Derek’s number until  _after_  he leaves the restaurant. He could ask Laura or Cora but he’d like to stave off the teasing for as long as possible. Then again, it’s probably a good thing because Derek is  _just_ the distraction Stiles doesn’t need right now.

Scott also happens to have a term paper due this week which means every day consists of them going to class, going home, locking themselves in their respective rooms and typing furiously until they pass out. There’s fresh coffee on their kitchen table every morning when they wake up that is no doubt left by Allison. She doesn’t stick around though because she’s just the distraction  _Scott_ doesn’t need.

Stiles is partly grateful that they’re both so busy because it means after his initial explanation of what happened at the restaurant, Scott doesn’t have time to grill him about Derek. And knowing Scott, by the time they have five minutes to talk about it he’ll have forgotten he’s supposed to be suspicious of Derek’s intent on Stiles’ behalf.

Stiles sleeps the entire Saturday after his paper’s been submitted and is only woken up at 6pm with a text from Laura.

 **From Laura:**  We miss you :( Come back to work!

Stiles stares at the text for a few minutes. He can already sort of guess who Laura is referring to but his mind needs some clarification. Just to make sure last week wasn’t all an elaborate dream.

 **To Laura:**  Who’s “we”?

 **From Laura:**  Subtle, Stilinski. Derek misses you. He’s been moping around the restaurant like a dejected looking puppy all week. Come back and put him out of his misery.

Stiles barely has a full minute of grinning to himself like an idiot when his phone starts ringing and Laura’s number flashes on the screen.

“Yeah?” Laura never says “hello” so why should he?

“Stiles.” That’s not Laura. Shit, that’s Derek. Stiles isn’t emotionally prepared for this right now. He’s hardly been awake ten minutes.

“Derek,” he squeaks – it’s a very manly squeak, okay.

“Where’ve you been?”

Derek’s feigning casual indifference and if Stiles wasn’t such a pro at that himself he probably wouldn’t notice.

“Huge paper due. I got rostered off this week, forgot to tell you the uh- the last time.” Jesus Christ he’s blushing and he can’t even  _see_  Derek.

“Oh.” With that one little word, Derek sounds supremely relieved and – wait a second – did Derek think Stiles had been avoiding him?

“I’ll be back on Monday,” Stiles prompts because he thinks Derek’s forgotten he’s still on the phone. “See you then?”

“Yes! Definitely. I’ll uh- I’ll be there.”

“Okay.” Stiles knows his grin is evident in his voice but he doesn’t care because Derek sounds flustered. Derek wants to see him. Derek  _misses_  him.

“Okay,” Derek answers. “Bye Stiles.”

“Bye.”

As soon as he hangs up the phone, it pings with an incoming text.

 **From Laura:**  You two make me sick.

*

On Monday evening Stiles keeps busy and absolutely does not  _spend the entire night eyeing the door, excuse you Laura._  When it gets to closing time Derek still hasn’t shown up and Stiles refuses to feel disappointed.

 _He’s probably just caught up at work_ , he reasons with himself as he starts on washing the dishes. He hears the door behind him swishing open and, assuming it’s just Laura or Cora, doesn’t bother turning around. He’s elbow-deep in suds anyway.

“Hey,” Derek says.

And then Stiles is whipping around and sending a flurry of suds everywhere.

Derek looks like he’s suppressing a laugh and Stiles’ heart definitely does not jolt when a little bubble of laughter escapes anyway. Okay, it doesn’t.

Derek saunters over to where Stiles is standing frozen at the sink, not stopping until the tips of their shoes are touching. Stiles watches his every move with bated breath only to watch Derek reach around him and…grab a towel?

Derek smirks, moves slightly to Stiles’ left and picks up a plate from the draining board to dry off.

Stiles gives him an affronted look before eventually remembering to turn back to the sink. “Asshole,” he mutters.

Derek does chuckle this time but doesn’t say anything, just takes plates from Stiles as soon as he’s finished washing them.

A silence settles over them that isn’t necessarily uncomfortable; it’s anticipatory more than anything. Something’s going to be said. It’s only a matter of time before last week is brought up. Stiles isn’t sure how long they’ve been standing there when Derek bumps his shoulder against Stiles’.

“Hey,” he murmurs when Stiles looks at him. “Go out with me.”

And  _that_  is not what Stiles was expecting.

“What?” he asks, taken aback.

“Go out with me,” Derek repeats, a smile playing across his lips.

“Why?” Ninety per cent of Stiles’ brain is screaming at him right now but the other ten per cent wants to know what Derek wants from this. He wants to go into this with his eyes open.

“Because,” Derek begins rolling up his sleeve and then his hand disappears in the soapy water and finds Stiles’ rubber glove-clad one. “Like you said before, I find you interesting. And there’s not very many interesting people left around here.”

Stiles tries not to look too awed by that and knows he fails terribly. Instead all he can do is shakily exhale and say, “Okay.”

Derek smiles, pleased, and tips his head forward just enough to graze his lips against Stiles’. “Pick you up after work tomorrow?”

Stiles nods his consent, finally allows his smile to break through and beams at Derek. Derek’s smile transforms into a grin and he hip-checks Stiles, letting go of his hand and returning to the dishes.

“So where are we going?” he asks casually a few minutes later.

“You’ll find out when we get there,” Derek replies cryptically.

Stiles gives him a side-long glance and scoffs. “Whatever you say, Casanova.”

Derek flicks suds at him retaliation.

*

 “Are we there yet?” Stiles asks, just to be annoying.

Derek huffs and side-eyes him, “Does it look like were there yet?”

Stiles looks at the open road, bracketed by nothing but trees and grins, “Nope.”

“I seriously question my taste in romantic partners,” Derek mutters, smirking when he notices Stiles’ offended look.

“Excuse you! You have awesome taste.” He flicks Derek’s shoulder before slouching in his chair sulkily. After a moment, Derek drops one of his hands from the steering wheel and covers Stiles’ own. It’s enough to keep him quiet for about ten minutes.

After what feels like hours – though the clock on the dashboard insists it’s only been twenty minutes – they pull up in front of a house.

“ _Dude_ ,” Stiles slowly turns his head to stare at Derek. “Did you bring me to an abandoned house for our first date?”

Derek rolls his eyes, unbuckling his belt. When he looks back to Stiles some of his bravado falls and he looks almost nervous. “Remember the sketches you saw for that restoration project?”

Stiles nods and then his brain catches up with him. “This is it?” he guesses.

At Derek’s nod, Stiles smiles brightly, hastily unbuckling his seatbelt and clambering out of the car. Derek arrives alongside him a moment later and Stiles tugs on his hand. “Well, come on. Show me around.”

They walk up to the porch in silence, Stiles can practically feel the nervous energy pouring off Derek. Whatever this is, this is really important to him and it’s a huge deal that he’s showing Stiles.

“It’s not much yet,” he begins as he unlocks the door. “This is just the foundations, it still needs paint and furniture and basically everything necessary for it to be considered a home.”

Stiles follows him inside, taking in his surroundings. The place is bare but he can see it; all the things it’ll be when it’s finished. It’s going to look amazing.

“Who’s it for?” he asks.

Derek’s silent for so long, Stiles thinks he mustn’t have heard him but when he looks to the other man he realises Derek’s doing that thing where he’s having an argument with himself in his head about whether or not he should say something – Stiles is very familiar with that look.

Eventually Derek answers quietly, “It’s mine.”

Stiles’ eyebrows shoot up in surprise and he smiles softly, silently hoping Derek will continue. To his surprise, he does.

“It was a graduation present. That’s why I’m always working on it at the weekends; it’s a side project,” he explains. “I’ve always wanted something that’s completely my own, y’know? Something that I made.” Derek won’t meet his eyes and the self-deprecating tinge to his voice makes Stiles want to reel him in and kiss him breathless.

“Plus Cora’s just dying for me to move out of my apartment so she can live with Laura,” he adds with the hint of a laugh.

A thought occurs to Stiles as he wanders around the foyer and he looks at Derek curiously, “How many people have you showed this to?”

Derek looks uncomfortable again and keeps his eyes downcast, “Besides you? No one.”

Stiles stares at him in disbelief. There’s no way Derek trusts Stiles – of all people – with the one thing that’s truly precious to him, that he actually  _wants_  Stiles to see it or share it with him.

This time, Stiles doesn’t just  _think_  about kissing Derek. He crosses the room and pulls him in by his t-shirt, kissing him in a way he hopes to God articulates everything he doesn’t know how to say right now. They break away with a gasp and Stiles smiles, pushing their lips together just one more time. “Give me the grand tour.”

Derek takes him from room to room, explaining every little detail, creating pictures that only he can see properly but make Stiles smile nonetheless. He’s never seen Derek like this. Stiles has always thought there’s nothing more special than watching someone talk about something they love and it’s so true with Derek.

Stiles is sure he’s never heard Derek string so many sentences together before or talk about anything even half as passionately as he talks about the house. If it’s possible, it makes Derek even more ridiculously charming.

Eventually they arrive in a room that, Stiles guesses, is supposed to be Derek’s bedroom. There’s a mattress on the floor and some blankets and pillows and a small side table against the wall. Derek confirms his guess almost immediately, saying he spends the night here sometimes if he works late.

Stiles makes a split-second decision and turns to Derek. “Do you have any more blankets and stuff?”

Derek frowns, “Uh yeah, they’re-“

“Get them,” he commands. “Oh! And the couple of chairs in the dining room.”

“Why?” He sounds wary but Stiles only smiles excitedly.

“Because I’m improving our seating arrangements. So get the rest of the blankets and order us some pizza and let me get to work.”

“Did anyone ever tell you you’re really bossy when you want to be?” Derek asks, quirking an eyebrow.

“It’s a side-effect of over-exposure to Lydia Martin. I’ve accepted it,” Stiles answers, waving a hand dismissively – yet another quirk he picked up from none other than Lydia Martin.

Derek doesn’t ask who Lydia is, just leaves the room and returns a few minutes later with everything Stiles asked for. He gives Stiles a curious look before disappearing again with his phone in hand to order some food.

He doesn’t come back upstairs for a half hour until their food’s been delivered. When Stiles hears him coming he quickly stands up. Derek arrives in the doorway and Stiles grins proudly, gesturing extravagantly to his masterpiece, “Tadaaa!”

“A pillow-fort,” Derek deadpans.

“It beats sitting on a mattress. This is more creative!” he insists, dropping back onto his seat.

Derek rolls his eyes – but Stiles knows damn well he does it fondly, okay – and moves to sit with Stiles, setting the pizza box between them.

“How did you even make it so fast?” Derek asks, looking slightly afraid of the answer.

“When Scott and I shared a dorm in freshman year of college we spent the entire year perfecting the art of pillow-fort building. It was awesome.” Stiles sighs happily thinking about it – though there had been that one time where Jackson opened the door and the whole thing caved in, effectively trapping them until Lydia and Allison saved their asses.

Derek’s making that face that says he wants to laugh at what Stiles said but he’s trying not to. Stiles is starting to see that face more and more frequently.

When they talk to each other this time, it’s different from the night in the restaurant. They know most of the big details about each other anyway so they don’t bother repeating them. Instead they talk about the little things; random quirks, favourite movies or food, little tidbits of information that allow them to see each other differently.

Even though the façade has been cracking anyway, Stiles officially doesn’t see Derek as the scary but silent, attractive architect anymore. Instead he’s the history nerd who’s way too in love with red velvet cake and who once broke his leg because his sisters bet him that he couldn’t walk down the stairs in roller blades.

He’s interesting and listens attentively when Stiles talks, like he actually cares about what Stiles has to say. And when Stiles hears him laugh for the first time – a real, uninhibited laugh – it’s kind of the greatest thing ever and he knows he was right to be interested in Derek.

Because Stiles has sat back for a long time and watched Scott and Allison and Lydia and Jackson fall in love and he’s never resented them for it. But looking at Derek, he can see his own life lived with somebody else in it. How it wouldn’t be so bad to have someone sleep over every now again, or have someone eat the pickles that come with his burger because he hates pickles, or to have someone there to hold him when he’s tired or stressed out. He wants that. And he thinks maybe, he could have that with Derek someday.

So when Derek leans in to kiss him, Stiles sighs happily and kisses back. He lets Derek ease him back on the mattress and fold their fingers together. He lets Derek take off his t-shirt when it gets in the way of the trail of kisses he was mouthing along Stiles’ neck and collar bone. He lets his own fingers travel under Derek’s shirt and map out the skin on his back and pulls away obligingly when Derek takes off his shirt altogether.

He lets it all happen because he wants it to happen.

He wants this. And he wants Derek.

*

When Stiles wakes up he knows where he is immediately and he very much wants to go straight back to sleep and stay here for another week or so. His clothes are…somewhere, just outside the pillow fort probably – though he is slightly curious as to how the thing’s still standing, all things considered. He’s sprawled across Derek’s chest, their hands lightly linked with the blanket pooling around their waists. 

He feels like he’s just about to drift back into a blissful sleep when his phone starts ringing obnoxiously loudly. Stiles whimpers, moving to bury his head in Derek’s shoulder. When his phone won’t shut up he moves a hand around blindly to find it. After a minute, Derek slips it into his hand.

Stiles pulls back, sees Derek’s amused eyes and grimaces. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

“Scott wants to know where I am,” Stiles mumbles absently, flicking through his text messages.

“You have class?” Derek asks, trailing his hands up and down Stiles’ sides in a way that manages to be distracting and comforting at the same time. Stiles has already resigned himself to the fact that everything about Derek Hale is a fucking enigma.

“Mmm…” Stiles hums, remembering he should probably check the time. “And I have exactly forty two minutes to get home, get my stuff and get to campus.”

Stiles tries to get up only to end up tangled in the sheets and faceplanting the mattress. He can hear Derek chuckling behind and turns his head to glare. “You’re not supposed to laugh at your date.”

“I don’t remember seeing that rule in the dating handbook Laura got me for Christmas,” Derek answers smoothly. “Get dressed, I’ll drive you to class.”

*

Derek waits outside while Stiles runs inside to quickly change his clothes and grab his bag. Scott’s already left, thankfully, so he doesn’t have to deal with 20 Questions. When he comes back downstairs Derek’s leaning against the hood of his car, holding two coffees and a bag that Stiles is almost positive holds bagels.

“I ran to the place across the street while you were inside,” Derek says when Stiles is close enough to hear.

Stiles takes the cup gratefully and takes a long drink – it’s exactly his order and Stiles doesn’t remember if he ever told Derek that or he just noticed but either way, he’s not complaining. “Congratulations. You officially win the award for the best date I’ve ever had,” he says, leaning against Derek’s side and making grabby hands at the bagels.

Derek grins, handing off the bag and herding Stiles back into the car. ”Come on, you don’t wanna be late.”

Derek pulls up on campus when Stiles has exactly thirty seconds to get to class. He leans in quickly and pecks Derek’s lips before scrambling out of the car. As Stiles is about to close the door he leans back down and promises, “I’ll see you at the restaurant!”

Derek just waves him away and tells him to hurry up and get to class.

*

Stiles meets Lydia for lunch because they’re the only ones whose schedules coincide on Wednesdays. She’s already sitting at their regular table at the café on campus when he arrives. She waves him over with a smile and he’s pleased to see his order sitting on the table. Sometimes Lydia can be an angel when she wants to be – or just when she wants  _something._

He drops into his seat across from her and, after a cursory greeting, tucks into his sandwich.

“Scott almost sent out a search party when you didn’t come home,” Lydia comments, it sounds unassuming but Stiles knows she’ll keep fishing for information until she gets it.

“If I tell you something, do you promise not to tell a soul until I’ve told Scott?”

Lydia drops her fork, leaning forward with her chin in her hand, “Cross my heart.”

“I slept with Derek,” he whispers.

Lydia’s eyes widen considerably but she recovers quickly, her customary smirk appearing. “Well, well, well Stilinski. I didn’t think you had it in you.” She almost sounds impressed.

He rolls his eyes and resumes eating.

“So are you two together now?” she presses.

“I guess?” he replies. “I mean, that was our first date – second if you include the night at the restaurant.”

“Oh I do,” Lydia interjects.

“I think it’s still a bit early for the boyfriend talk though.”

“But you  _are_  dating,” Lydia concludes, pretty much leaving zero room for argument.

 “Yeah I guess we are.” Stiles can feel himself smiling even before he hears Lydia scoff.

“I’d wipe that smile off your face if I were you, Stiles,” Lydia mentions. “You know what this means, don’t you?”

Stiles frowns confusedly and she leans forward, emphasising each word. “Triple. Dates.”

Stiles pales and she smirks smugly at him. Stiles has heard about Allison and Scott’s and Lydia and Jackson’s double dates. They usually end in heated debates about which couple won at bowling or Monopoly or whatever the hell they’re playing. That’ll be the real test of his and Derek’s pseudo-relationship; whether or not Derek runs for the hills after date night with Stiles’ friends.

“The sooner you accept it, the easier it is,” Lydia suggests, still smirking like a Cheshire cat.

*

He only lasts fifteen minutes at work before Cora and Laura corner him. “I suppose we should say congrats on the sex,” Laura says offhandedly.

“First of all, that’s not the type of thing you say in reference to your brother,” Stiles starts – Cora seems to agree if the way she looks faintly horrified is anything to go by. “Second of all, how do you even know?”

Laura’s grin is devious. “First of all,” she begins, imitating him like the five-year-old she is. “I didn’t know for sure until just this second. So thanks for that. Second of all, you left with Derek yesterday and he didn’t come home last night, it doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together.”

Stiles really wishes this wasn’t his life. Except that’s completely untrue because his life involves sex with Derek now, so he really couldn’t care less about good natured teasing.

“I hate you both,” he says with absolutely no heat behind it.

“No you don’t!” Cora says with cheerful certainty. “Now go take care of tables before Derek shows up and your IQ and coordination take a nosedive.”

Stiles doesn’t even bother talking back because Cora and Laura always tag-team him when it comes to insults so he doesn’t stand a chance. Cora seems to realise as much because she smiles triumphantly and wanders off to take a table’s order. Laura lingers just a bit longer, eyeing Stiles contemplatively in a way eerily similar to Derek. After a minute, her peculiar look slips into a smile and she cuffs Stiles over the ear.

“I’m glad Derek gave you a chance.”

It’s the first time ever that Stiles doesn’t hear the playful tone in her voice. She’s being completely honest with him. He’s too taken aback by the gesture to say anything but Laura doesn’t expect him to. Because then she’s smiling and heading off into the kitchen.

*

Stiles and Derek are able to enjoy two weeks of finding their feet in their relationship without any interference from anyone else. They have the awkward “are we boyfriends?” conversation over the phone ten days after their first date when neither Scott nor Laura are around to eavesdrop. (The conclusion of that conversation is that they  _are_  now in fact boyfriends)

Getting used to their relationship on their own is, of course, short lived when Stiles’ friends demand Derek come over on Friday night. Derek agrees, presuming Stiles is exaggerating when he says he and his friends have no boundaries.

Oh if he only knew.

Allison and Scott go to the restaurant for their Friday night dinner as usual but this time Stiles gets a ride home with Derek. When they pull up to Stiles’ apartment block, Stiles grabs Derek shoulder before he gets out of the car. “Something you should know; Allison and Scott and Lydia and Jackson get weirdly competitive on date night so just...don’t let this be your defining impression of my friends.”

Derek smiles like Stiles is being ridiculous. “You’re talking to the guy who’s sister viciously ripped up all the monopoly money because she was losing. This’ll be fine.”

Stiles grins and forces himself to relax. He’s just a bit on edge. Stiles is essentially bringing Derek home to meet the family. He honestly thinks his dad interrogating Derek over a family dinner would go smoother than this is about to.

His friends would never actively try to make Derek uncomfortable, he knows that, but Stiles has been single for so long that whenever he does start dating someone, his friends are very protective.

And he  _is_  grateful for how much they care…He just doesn’t want Derek to disappear off the face of the planet after he meets them.

*

Stiles relaxes by the time he has a beer in him and they’re on their second round of Pictionary.

Scott starts pointing at the board excitedly and Stiles grins, already knowing what’s coming.

“It’s a bird! It’s a plane! No, wait! It’s-“

“The same stupid joke you two idiots make every time we play this gam,.” Jackson cuts him off, rolling his eyes so hard Stiles is sure they’re going to roll right out of his head.

Scott throws a cushion at him before jumping up to high-five Stiles. That joke is awesome okay, Jackson can suck it.

Lydia quickly guesses the correct answer to prevent the bitchfest that’s about to start and primly stands up, ushering the boys back to their seats so she can take her go. Stiles bounces back onto the couch next to Derek and leans in, keeping an eye on the board. “Still not judging me?”

“Not even close,” Derek answers, smirking when Stiles raises a dubious eyebrow.

Derek and Allison end up dominating the game which isn’t all that surprising on Allison’s part because Stiles knows how competitive she is. Derek, on the other hand, well, Stiles doesn’t expect him to take the game so…seriously. If anything, he would’ve thought Derek would scoff and act like he wasn’t interested. But he actually tries really hard and is weirdly skilled at Pictionary. Stiles finds it absurdly adorable.

When Stiles looks questioningly at him at the end of the round, all he does is grin smugly and say, “Still not judging me?”

A laugh startles out of Stiles even as he kisses Derek. “Not even close,” he mumbles. “…well, maybe a little bit.”

He hears a flash go off in front of him and when he pulls back from Derek he sees Allison smiling innocently, camera hidden behind her back, and Scott grinning at him unashamedly. The best part is that Derek doesn’t even look like he cares, he just sits back against the cushions, one hand resting on Stiles’ leg, and lets himself be pulled into Danny and Jackson’s conversation.

Yeah, okay, Stiles could really get used to this.

 *

The following week, Derek invites Stiles out with him and his friends; Erica, Isaac and Boyd. They go to a bar the four of them frequent and play pool which only results in Erica wiping the floor with all of them.

Stiles’ first impression of her is that she’s terrifying but in a brilliant sort of way – like Laura and Lydia. And perfect for Boyd; who’s tall and menacing and unbelievably stoic but has a dry wit that rivals Derek and the most intimidating smile that gets even more frightening when he laughs. Stiles likes him. Then there’s Isaac who’s admittedly more quiet than the other two but once he gets talking, Stiles discovers he’s hilariously sarcastic – he’s also starting to think snarky is a prerequisite if you’re going to spend time with Derek – and his one-liners are usually inappropriate which just makes Stiles like him more.

When Derek goes to the bathroom, the three of them circle Stiles and a detached part of his brain thinks he’s about to be fed to the lions.

“Look, we’re not going to tease you or threaten you not to hurt Derek’s little heart because we’re pretty sure Laura and Cora have already got that covered,” Erica begins, taking the lead. “What we do want to say though, is that Derek doesn’t like very many people.”

“He hates everyone,” Isaac nods sagely from behind her and Boyd rolls his eyes.

“What he means,” Boyd continues, “is that Derek generally doesn’t make an effort to get to know people so when he does, it’s a big deal.”

“Which means you’re probably pretty damn important to him,” Isaac explains.

“So we just want you to bear that in mind because lord knows Derek’s not the best at articulating his feelings,” Erica says with a fond smile.

“He really likes you, Stiles,” Isaac says quietly, smiling like he’s divulging a secret.

“ _We_  like you,” Erica affirms.

“So don’t screw it up,” Boyd says with a nod as he takes a sip of his beer.

Stiles is pretty sure he just gapes at them like a fish until Derek returns but if the way they keep grinning at him is anything to go by, they know he’s got the message.

*

The first time Stiles spends the night at Derek’s apartment is a month into their relationship and the following morning, he’s introduced to a Hale family tradition: Sunday morning cartoons. They’re still in bed; Derek half sitting up against the head rest and Stiles curled into his side with his head resting on Derek’s stomach when Laura appears in the doorway, holding three bowls of cereal.

She looks at them, rolling her eyes and muttering something about them being adorable under her breath before setting the bowls on the bedside table and taking a seat in the empty space next to Derek. Considering Derek had gone so far as to bribe Laura into leaving them alone the night before, Stiles is a little surprised when he doesn’t so much as make a sound as Laura sits down. She hands them off a bowl each and picks up the remote, wordlessly turning on Cartoon Network.

Stiles balances his bowl between his chest and Derek’s hip and awkwardly uses his left hand to spoon out his cereal because he’s too tired to bother with sitting up. After a few minutes he hears Derek huff and there’s a spoon appearing in front of Stiles’ mouth. Hah. Derek’s  _feeding_  him. Stiles has had a lot of thoughts about their relationship but never in his life did he think Derek would be whipped this fast.

Never being one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Stiles accepts spoonful after spoonful of Derek’s cereal until it’s gone and Derek picks up Stiles’ bowl to eat that cereal himself.

From the corner of his eye, Stiles can see Laura physically holding back an “aww” and he smirks to himself, pressing closer to Derek. After a minute or so, both bowls disappear and Derek goes back to drawing circles on Stiles’ back like he has been all morning. “Don’t you think it’s a bit inappropriate getting into bed with your brother and his boyfriend?” he asks Laura offhandedly.

Stiles’ stomach still does flip flops every time Derek calls him his boyfriend.

“You make it sound so much worse than it is, Derek,” she chastises. “You’re both fully clothed and I’m sitting on top of the covers. In fact, I’m not even touching you. Don’t get your panties n a bunch.”

Stiles buries his laugh against Derek’s t-shirt, only peeking out again because he knows he’s missing the hilarious sibling staring/eyebrow contest going on right now.

Laura wins by simply laughing and patting Derek’s head in the way she knows he hates. “We’re having dinner at mom and dad’s tonight.” she tells him, returning her gaze to the TV. “You too, Stiles.”

Stiles rips himself out of Derek’s arms and bolts upright. “ _What?”_

Laura looks at him curiously. “What? You’re practically family anyway but now that you’ve domesticated our little Derek, we want to welcome you officially.”

Derek looks put out at the domesticated jibe but chuckles when Stiles turns his panicked face to him. “Stiles, you work with my family every day and have done for six months.  _Relax.”_

“But I’ve never introduced myself as your  _boyfriend!”_ he protests.

Derek puts up a valiant effort not to laugh in Stiles’ face and pulls him back into his arms. “It’ll be fine. I’m pretty sure my mom prefers you over me at this point anyway.”

“Psh as if. Derek, you’re a lot of things but Mama’s boy is definitely top of the list,” Stiles retorts, much to Laura’s delight as she keels over laughing.

Derek scoffs, “See if I help you when Peter asks you awkward questions.”

*

Later that day, Stiles climbs into the Camaro with Derek and Laura and tries not to jiggle his leg or tap his fingers on his knee too much. He doesn’t know why he’s so nervous. Laura had been right this morning; Stiles is basically part of their family – certainly more so than any other non-family member that works at the restaurant. Not only that, but he’s been interacting with the Hales for the better part of a month as a waiter  _and_  Derek’s boyfriend. And not a single one of them has said a word to him that would suggest they disapprove. In fact, Talia and Robert seem even warmer with him and Cora and Laura have basically just adopted him as their brother.

He doesn’t realise just how fidgety he’s being until Derek’s hand slips off the steering wheel and takes hold of Stiles’ from where it’s been bunching up the fabric of his jeans.

“Relax,” Derek murmurs, low enough that Laura won’t hear from the back seat.

Stiles gives him a tremulous smile and goes back to staring straight ahead, out the windshield. Eventually Derek pulls onto the road that gives way to the winding path that leads to the Hale house and Stiles gulps.

Laura bounds out of the car as soon as it stops and Derek squeezes Stiles’ hand briefly before letting go and climbing out after her. Stiles lets out a breath, unbuckles his seatbelt and follows them, quietly relieved that Derek’s still standing by the car waiting for him in favour of just heading into the house like Laura.

When Stiles comes around the front of the car Derek slips his hand in his again and tugs him gently up the walkway. The door’s already open when they make it to the porch but no one’s in the doorway. Stiles can hear voices coming from what he guesses is the kitchen. Derek leads him into the living room where Cora’s sitting on the couch bantering with Peter. Through the open door that leads to the kitchen Stiles can see Robert at the stove and Laura leaning against the counter, laughing at something her mother says while Talia takes plates down from the cupboard.

“Hi Stiles,” Cora smiles in a way he thinks is supposed to put him at ease but shows far too many teeth to accomplish that objective.

Still, he forces himself to calm down and grins at her. “Mini Hale,” he acknowledges with a nod. Cora rolls her eyes at the name, obviously not bothered enough to fight him on it.

“Stiles,” Peter greets in that creepy quiet voice that always leaves Stiles wanting to run the other way.

“Leave him alone,” Derek interjects before Peter can say anymore – and he  _would_  say more because, hello, it’s Peter – and pulls Stiles into the kitchen.

Talia looks up upon their entrance and smiles tenderly, essentially being the only Hale to actually ease his mind. “Hi boys.”

She moves to Derek first and he lets go of Stiles’ hand to hug his mom. “Hi mom.”

When she releases Derek, she moves to kiss Stiles on the cheek just like he does every day at the restaurant and he feels some of the tension drain out of him. “Hey Mrs Hale.”

Robert moves away from the stove long enough to clap his son on the back and shake Stiles’ hand. “Stiles, could you help Talia set the table while Derek and Laura help me in here?” he asks amicably.

“Dad, he’s not at work right now, give the guy a break,” Laura scolds, winking at Stiles.

“It’s no trouble!” Stiles assures quickly. “I can help.”

Talia smiles at him amusedly and Derek squeezes his hand again.

*

Dinner goes much more smoothly since the Hales were clearly brought up with manners and don’t talk with their mouths full.

Well, all of them except Peter.

“So Stiles, why exactly did you want to snatch our little Derek up?” Peter asks with a faint smirk. “I mean, sure, he’s a pretty face but his personality leaves something to be desired. Don’t you think?”

Derek rolls his eyes from his place next to Stiles, “Sorry Pete, my social skills still aren’t as terribly inappropriate as yours,” he quips quickly, sending his uncle a smirk of his own.

“I don’t like Derek just because he’s good looking,” Stiles says quietly, determinedly. He knows Peter doesn’t really expect an answer, just wants a rise out of Derek. But Stiles is confident enough in their relationship that he doesn’t think he needs to be embarrassed to tell someone why he likes Derek. “I like him for a lot of reasons – all of which are probably too long-winded of an answer for you – so I guess all you need to know is that I like him because he’s Derek,” he finishes with a shrug.

Everyone at the table has stopped eating and is now staring at him. Peter looks satisfied, Talia’s smiling at him affectionately, Robert looks just short of beaming with pride and Cora and Laura are practically bouncing in their seats, repressing their squeals. But Derek’s look is his favourite. Because he looks so completely shocked by what Stiles said when really, what Stiles said was pretty simple – not to mention obvious. But when the shock subsides, Derek’s whole expression softens and he smiles at Stiles in a way he’s never seen before. It’s kind of like he thinks Stiles is the most important person in the world in that moment.

“And why do you like Stiles?” Peter asks Derek gently after a moment.

Derek doesn’t take his eyes off Stiles as he answers. “Because he doesn’t give up. And I figure if someone’s going to try that hard then they’re probably worth it.”

Stiles doesn’t care what anyone else looks like right now. Because Erica, Isaac and Boyd were right; Derek doesn’t say how he feels very often. He tries to show it through gestures like soft touches and tender kisses but Stiles can tell he never really knows how to put it into words so he doesn’t bother. But this–  _this_  isn’t what Stiles was expecting and it feels more special and sacred than he could possibly have imagined.

He doesn’t kiss Derek because he knows there’re five pairs of eyes on them but god he wants to. Instead he volunteers for clean-up duty and Derek follows suit quickly.

Stiles has barely closed the kitchen door before Derek’s crowding him against it and capturing his lips in a kiss. It’s messy and hasty and all teeth and tongues and hands gripping each other tightly trying to convey gratitude and wonder because it’s the only way either of them can think to say, “me too”.

They break away breathing heavily and Stiles laughs – a breathless, incredulous,  _delighted_  laugh – before Derek leans in to kiss him again. It doesn’t really count as a kiss when they’re both grinning and it sort of just makes Stiles laugh more and makes Derek join in and Stiles doesn’t know how, but they eventually make it to the sink to clean the dishes.

It might take them over twenty minutes because they get distracted a few times but he doesn’t really care because he’s quickly learning that cleaning dishes with Derek is much more fun than doing it alone.

He’s not actually sure if that’s a euphemism.

*

Something that Stiles learns about Derek that he doesn’t expect, is that he likes to cuddle. A lot. In fact, they tend to spend a lot of their time cuddling. Because Derek works a lot and Stiles is always busy with college and the restaurant and by the time they actually get to see each other they’re too tired to go on dates so they usually don’t bother.

They sit on Derek’s couch and eat take-out or leftovers from the restaurant three nights a week. On Tuesdays they lie on Stiles’ couch and watch movies – if it’s something Derek has no interest in, he’ll lie behind Stiles and bury his head in Stiles’ shoulder and go to sleep. If not, Stiles’ll just lie on top of him so they can both see the TV. On Fridays they go out with Scott, Allison, Lydia, Jackson and Danny and whoever his date of the week is. On Saturdays, Stiles goes to Derek’s and he writes his papers while Derek organises sketches and make phone calls and occasionally, when he’s taking a break, Derek will flop onto the couch and rest his head in Stiles’ lap while Stiles plays with his hair and reads his text  book.

Stiles supposes that they’re really boring since it’s been two months and they don’t do much of anything other than spend time together in the same room – half the time they’re not even talking – but then he figures, if they can get along like this; when they’re doing absolutely nothing, and they still want to be together then they’ve got a pretty good thing going.

*

Sometimes Stiles helps Derek at the house. He’s still the only one that’s allowed see the place and so, gets the job of helping Derek paint the walls and move furniture around. It’s coming along well – Derek got the Wi-Fi put in so that when Stiles isn’t helping out he can do his assignments in peace while Derek works.

Stiles likes going to the house. The construction workers finished up right around the first time he saw the place and the floors, plumbing and electricity have been put in too. The units in the kitchen and everything in the bathrooms have been fitted, so really the only people ever there are himself and Derek. It’s kind of like their own little hideout in a way. And a part of Stiles loves that whenever they stay there they have nothing to do  _but_  talk. Stiles has learned more about Derek from chatting with him while they paint his bedroom than he had in the almost five months he worked in the restaurant before they started going out.

They spill their life stories on a mattress on the floor, eating ice-cream or painting walls different shades of cream. Stiles thinks there probably isn’t a single thing he doesn’t know about Derek now. Between their first few dates and random moments spent together, he’s learned everything he thinks he could possibly know.

It’s weird because Stiles isn’t the type to be very open with people. Sure he can be loud and he’s friendly and talkative but Stiles doesn’t share private details of his life with just anyone. And yet, there’s something so inherent to who Derek is that just makes him unbelievably trustworthy. Stiles  _wants_  to tell him things. He wants to share. And the greatest thing about it is that Derek does too.

*

Stiles is shopping with Derek. For curtains.

He’s not really sure when they bypassed that line of becoming an old married couple but he’s pretty certain that’s what they are now.

…And he honestly doesn’t care.

“No, don’t get those one!” Stiles objects. “They’re going to clash with your bedspread. I thought you were supposed to have an eye for these kinds of things?”

“I’m an architect, not an interior designer,” Derek sighs, looking longingly at the packet Stiles just put back on the shelf. “I like those ones.”

“Tough.”

“Why do I let you boss me around so much?” Derek muses.

Stiles whirls on him and grins, “Because I’m adorable.”

Derek narrows his eyes in contemplation before shaking his head. “No, I don’t think that’s it.”

Stiles cuffs him over the head before taking his hand and pulling him to the next aisle. “Because I’m the best sex you’ve ever had?”

He looks back at Derek to see him pondering his answer. “I guess…” he shrugs.

Stiles brings them to a stop in front of another shelf and shoves him half-heartedly. “Stop being a dick and pick some decent curtains.”

“You sound like Lydia.”

Stiles scoffs, “The fact that you’ve even spent enough time around Lydia to make that observation speaks volumes to me.”

Derek smirks, picking up another set. “These?”

Stiles plucks the packet out of his hands and eyes the picture on the front before checking the price and nodding, “They’ll do.”

“Glad I have your seal of approval,” he retorts sarcastically, rolling his eyes, but he couldn’t hide his grin even if he wanted to.

Stiles thinks bickering with Derek about stupidly domestic things might be his new favourite hobby.

*

Derek’s working against a deadline and Stiles knows he’s stressed because he doesn’t even stop by the restaurant for dinner. Stiles texts him on his break and discovers Derek’s still at his office and that he’ll probably be staying there for the foreseeable future.

He waits out the final agonising hours of his shift, keeps his smile plastered on his face and takes orders meticulously but Cora can tell he’s itching to get out of there. It’s why she eventually takes pity on him and takes his notepad out of his hand fifteen minutes before his shift ends and tells him to get lost.

“Take care of my brother for me,” she requests. He smiles gratefully at her and makes a sergeant’s salute. He grabs his stuff from the back room and before he can even think about getting it himself, Talia hands him a brown paper bag Stiles is willing to bet contains red velvet cake. She pats his shoulder on the way out and tells him to say hi to Derek for her.

Derek’s office is only a few blocks away so he zips his hoodie up against the chill and turns left once he leaves the restaurant.

When he gets to the firm he waves to the security guard who quickly recognises him and unlocks the door with a friendly greeting – probably because Stiles bribed him with coffee that one time to let him into Derek’s office.

Stiles takes the elevator up to the third floor and the whole place is in darkness save for the light emanating from Derek’s room. Stiles enters with a smile, holding up the cake. “Guess what I brought!” he exclaims brightly.

“Shhh,” is the swift response. Derek doesn’t even look up until he realises Stiles is still hovering in shock in the doorway.

“Sorry,” he sighs, scrubbing his hands over his face. “I’m just really busy.”

“It’s okay,” Stiles says warily, gently dropping into the seat in front of Derek’s desk. “Why don’t you take a break?”

“I can’t,” Derek says flatly.

“Just for a few minut-“

“Stiles, I can’t!” Derek looks more frustrated with himself than he does Stiles but Stiles would be lying is he said it doesn’t sting a little.

“Derek you’re exhausted, you need to-“

Derek sighs irritably, “Could you just- could you just  _go away?”_

And that- Stiles is not tolerating that. He knows Derek’s under a lot of pressure. He  _understands_. But that doesn’t give Derek free reign to take it out on Stiles.

“Okay, I know you’re really stressed right now so I’m going to pretend you didn’t mean that,” Stiles starts quietly, gathering his things to stand up again. “Call me when you’re done being an ass.”

It’s harsh and he kind of regrets it almost immediately because he  _knows_  Derek doesn’t mean it. But goddammit, he’s not going to let Derek walk all over him either. No, he’ll let Derek cool off and they can make up tomorrow when he calls.

It’s fine.

*

Derek doesn’t call. Stiles doesn’t really expect him to call  _that night_. But then there’re no missed calls or texts in the morning and nothing during the day. Laura doesn’t have a message for him even if she  _does_  know something’s wrong. Derek doesn’t stop by for dinner either. And when Stiles goes to bed that night it’s still radio silence.

Two days later there’s still nothing. Stiles considers calling Derek but it’s the principle of the thing. Derek snapped first therefore he should apologise first and Stiles  _told_ him to call him.

“Dude, maybe you need to be the bigger person and call him first,” Scott suggests when Stiles confides in him with his problem.

“But it’s not my fault!” he protests. He’s not backing down with this. He shouldn’t have to. Even though he knows the whole thing is stupid in the first place.

Scott shrugs and gives him a sympathetic shoulder squeeze.

*

On the fourth day of no phone calls Stiles cracks and goes to Laura.

“I  _knew_  he was acting strange,” Laura exclaims when he tells her what happened. “He hasn’t said anything, sweetie, I’m sorry. I’ve tried to get him to tell me what’s wrong but he won’t budge. I’ll talk to him again tonight.”

“Thanks.” He gives her a pathetic excuse for a smile and then he’s being pulled into one of Laura’s famous Mother Bear hugs. They’re his favourite.

“You’ll fix it,” she says certainly before she lets go. Stiles hopes she’s right.

*

That night Stiles goes to the roof of his building with a bucket of water balloons. He waits until after midnight so the streets are mostly empty – just because he’s pissed doesn’t mean anyone else deserves a water balloon to the face.

He starts firing them in random directions, trying to hit the building across the street or make patterns on the concrete. He doesn’t know how long he’s been up there when he hears the door to the roof creaking open.

Derek comes to stand beside him but Stiles doesn’t acknowledge him, just keeps throwing water balloons.

After a few minutes, Derek picks up a balloon and aims it for the centre of the building. It collides with Stiles and the impact causes them to burst mid-air. Stiles really wishes they weren’t fighting because that was freaking cool and he wants to talk about it.

“I didn’t mean it y’know,” Derek says as he picks up another balloon.

“I know,” Stiles answers.

“If you want to end this I understand.”

That brings Stiles up short because- what?

“What are you talking about?” he asks confusedly. “We had a stupid fight.”

“I just thought…” Derek trails away, looking uncomfortable. When he meets Stiles’ eyes again there’s something there – he thinks it’s hope.

“Did you really think I’d break up with you over something so petty?” he asks incredulously.

Derek only shrugs. And god, Stiles is falling in love with an idiot, he really is.

He sighs dramatically and opens his arms. “Come here.”

Derek doesn’t need to be told twice. He closes the distance hastily, pulling Stiles towards him kissing him fiercely. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles against Stiles lips after a few seconds or minutes or basically, right around the time Stiles starts to get dizzy.

Stiles grins, effectively breaking their kiss and leans up to press his lips to Derek’s temple. “Me too. Also, welcome to an adult relationship. We don’t break up over stupid things here.”

“Says the nineteen year old,” Derek retorts with a roll of his eyes.

“ _Twenty,”_  Stiles corrects. “Geez and you call yourself my boyfriend.”

“Yeah, I am,” Derek says it so softly – so  _affectionately_  - it doesn’t feel like they’re joking anymore.

Stiles nods in agreement, bridging the gap between them once more because he hasn’t kissed Derek in four days and it turns out he really misses it okay. He misses the way Derek’s arms wind round him, or the way Derek cups his jaw, guiding the kiss, or the way he always gets to run his fingers through Derek’s hair in these moments or bunch up the front of Derek’s shirt to hold him in place.

Basically he just missed Derek.

*

Stiles is lying on Derek’s couch thinking about nothing in particular, so naturally, his brain wanders to his relationship with Derek - they’re going on three and a half months now. He looks at Derek sitting in the miniscule space Stiles has left on the couch with his feet propped up on the coffee table as he thumbs through a book. And he can’t help but feel that same flutter in his chest he always gets when he looks at Derek. He thinks about what it means; the flutter. He’s never given it much thought before, just accepted that that’s what happens when he’s around Derek. Now he thinks it might mean something more.

“Hey Derek?”

“Hmm?” Derek doesn’t look up from his book but one of his hands curls around Stiles’ ankle absently.

“I think I love you,” Stiles says simply.

Wow. He always thought saying those words would be monumental. But they’re not. They’re just…normal, right, the  _truth_. He means it, that’s all there is to it.

Derek turns his head to face Stiles, an eyebrow already arched. “You  _think?”_

“Yeah, I mean, you’re a pretty decent dude,” Stiles answers casually, a coy smirk on his lips.

Derek puts his book on the coffee table and slowly drags himself on top of Stiles, shifting until his chin is propped on Stiles’ chest. Stiles’ hands slide up into his hair without a second thought. “Maybe I love you too,” he murmurs.

“Of course you do, I’m delightful.”

“Don’t forget modest,” Derek snorts.

Stiles smiles lopsidedly, playing with the hair at the nape of Derek’s neck. “We make a pretty good team, don’t we?”

“I guess.”

Stiles rolls his eyes, shifting his leg under Derek to knee him in the side. “I’m serious, asshole! We’re doing a good job with this whole relationship shtick.”

Derek’s eyes soften in way that only ever happens around Stiles and he leans up the last few inches to press their lips together. “We are,” he agrees.

*

Stiles really does love working for the Hales – it’s the best part-time job he’s ever had – but it’s just…not what he wants to do. He knows it’s only for the time being, knows it’s only to help him get through college but he’s never challenged there.

He loves working with Cora and Laura, he has all the time in the world for Robert and Talia and, of course, he loves getting to see Derek all the time but if he’s honest, he’s kind of bored.

Stiles is an action kind of guy, always has been from the first moment he snuck a look at his father’s police files when he was six. He likes mysteries. He likes having puzzles to crack. And now that he’s not constantly obsessing about trying to figure out Derek, he’s restless.

Which is why, when his father calls him one Saturday at the end of February Stiles finally feels excited again.

Stiles is alone in his apartment, squeezing his phone in his hand trying to determine who he should call first or maybe if he should just scream into his pillow for a while.

He’s practically vibrating out of his skin by the time Scott and Allison come through the door with take-out.

“I GOT AN INTERNSHIP AT THE POLICE STATION!” he screeches by way of greeting.

Stiles watches the words tick over in his best friend’s brain and then Scott’s eyes widen comically and he’s handing the food off to Allison to pick Stiles up in congratulations. “Dude! That’s awesome!”

Stiles laughs delightedly as Scott squeezes him extra tight. Eventually he put Stiles down so Allison can join them in a stupidly cliché – but still adorable – group hug.

“I didn’t even know you applied,” Allison says in amazement.

“I didn’t. My dad knows a deputy there. I’ll probably just be getting people coffee and stuff but still.  _A police department_.” Stiles is bouncing with barely contained glee and all his friends can do is laugh at him.

“Oh my god I have to call Derek! But I had to tell you first, Scotty because duh! You’re Scott. And I have to call Lydia and rub it in Jackson’s face and go drinking with Danny and let Cora and Laura fawn over me and-“

 “Stiles,” Scott cuts him off and puts a placating hand on his arm. “You need to breathe between sentences,” he soothes, still grinning too widely. “Call Derek. I’ll invite Lydia, Jackson and Danny over.”

“Right. Call Derek. I can do that.”

 His call lasts about thirty seconds and doesn’t contain much more than: “Igotaninternshipatthepolicedepartment” and “…I’ll be right over.”

Derek arrives ten minutes after Lydia, Jackson and Danny with Cora and Laura in tow. Derek doesn’t even get to explain their presence because they’re enveloping Stiles in a hug as soon as they’re through the door.

Derek hangs back, lets his sisters crowd around Stiles but eventually they move to talk to Stiles’ friends who are mixing drinks in Scott and Stiles’ tiny kitchen.

“So I take it congratulations is in order?” Derek asks him with a wry smile.

Stiles rocks on his heels, shrugging his shoulders and repressing his grin. “I guess so.”

“Does this mean you’re not gonna bring me red velvet cake anymore?”

Stiles rolls his eyes and laughs, finally giving in and letting Derek wrap his arms around him. “I don’t start till the end of the semester so you’re stuck with me for a couple of more months.”

“I’m sure I’ll manage,” Derek’s eyes light up even as they begin to close as he moves in to kiss Stiles; peppering his mouth with feather-light pecks that usually make Stiles laugh. “Congratulations,” he whispers. “I’ve got a surprise for you later.”

Stiles raises his eyebrows suggestively, snickering when Derek sighs long-suffering.

“Not that,” Derek says, adding, “…Well, maybe that,” when Stiles pouts. “I think you’re gonna like it though.”

“You’ve intrigued me, Mr. Hale.”

“Yeah, yeah. Go get drunk with your friends and celebrate. You can be intrigued later.” he says, nudging Stiles toward the kitchen

Stiles pecks his lips, calls, “I love you,” and bounds into the kitchen, taking the drink Scott holds out to him.

*

Derek’s “surprise” doesn’t actually come along for another two months. Stiles keeps asking about it but Derek always replies with a cryptic “soon.” It’s not until the night of Stiles’ going away party at the restaurant that he actually finds out what the surprise is.

Talia closes the restaurant after Stiles’ final shift and they have a celebration for him. His dad even makes the drive up – but Stiles thinks he probably just wanted to meet Derek and greet him with thinly veiled threats about shotguns.

The night’s filled with hugs and congratulations and “we’ll miss you”s and a, “don’t think you can get away from us that easy,” from Laura and Stiles loves it all.

It’s around midnight when Derek comes up behind him and takes his hand, whispering in his ear that his surprise is ready. Stiles feels his eyes widen and hurriedly excuses himself from his conversation with Scott and Cora, slipping out the door behind Derek with one last backward glance to see them grinning at him knowingly.

*

“Derek, I really think the blind fold is a bit excessive,” Stiles says nonchalantly from the passenger seat of the car.

Derek snorts and Stiles can imagine the derisive look on his face. “I told you I had a surprise for you.”

“Is that surprise that you’re into bondage because that seems to be where this is going,” Stiles remarks, gesturing to the blind fold over his face.

Derek slaps him lightly on the chest with the back of his hand, taking a sharp turn and making Stiles yelp. “Warn a guy, would you!” Stiles squawks, gripping his seat belt tightly.

“Would you be quiet? We’re almost there,” Derek promises.

Around five minutes later, the car stops and Stiles hears Derek’s door open and close. Then his own door is being opened and Derek’s grabbing hold of his hand to help him out of the car. Derek walks behind him, pressed close to his back. He keeps one hand on Stiles’ elbow and holds his other. “Step,” Derek murmurs in his ear and Stiles lifts his foot up cooperatively.

“You’re not gonna, like, kill me or anything, right?” Stiles mutters.

“I’m pretty sure we’ve had this conversation before,” Derek muses and Stiles laughs softly, thinking of their first date when he thought Derek had taken him to an abandoned house.

Stiles hears a key turning in a lock and then Derek’s nudging him forward again. “Okay, we’re here.” Derek hands move up to untie the blind fold and it falls away. Stiles’ eyes flutter open and take a second to adjust to the light but when they do he lets out a gasp.

The house is finished.

He knew Derek had been keeping him away recently for some reason but it still didn’t even click with him that the place could be complete. And just like that he thinks back to their first date again and the first time he stepped through this door and saw bare walls and single light bulbs hanging from the ceiling. But Derek had seen potential. Derek knew what he wanted this house to be and, as he pulls Stiles from room to room yet again, Stiles knows he got what he wanted. He got his home.

“So is the surprise that we actually get to have sex on a bed this time as opposed to a mattress on the floor? Or is that just a perk?” Stiles asks, waggling his eyebrows.

At Derek’s unimpressed look, he sighs. “Oh stop frowning, would you? I know the surprise is showing me the house and I really do love it. It’s amazing and you’re amazing and you’re going to be really happy here.” Stiles slings his arms around Derek’s shoulders loosely, humming happily when Derek’s arms curl around him.

“That’s not the surprise,” Derek says simply.

Stiles frowns, pulling back a little. “What? But I thought-“

“I want you to move in with me.”

“Yes!” Stiles answers immediately. “Yes.  _Yes_. Absolutely yes!”

Derek smiles impossibly wide and god if it’s not the best thing Stiles has ever seen. Derek kisses him like Stiles has just given him a million dollars or something because they’ve had plenty of enthusiastic kisses before but Stiles doesn’t think Derek’s ever kissed him quite as wholly as he does now.

“We’re moving in together,” Stiles mumbles in wonder when he pulls away to catch his breath because holy shit – he and Derek are being grown-ups and actually moving forward in their relationship.

“And you have a new job that you actually want to do,” Derek replies.

“And I love you,” Stiles adds.

Derek huffs out a laugh before agreeing. “And I love you…Welcome to real life.”

If this is real life, Stiles is so on board.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Basically i wrote this because Teen Wolf hurts and I needed fluff in my life so I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> Also, this is the longest thing I've ever written on my own that has some sort of semblance of plot so I'm quite proud of it tbh :')
> 
> If you ever want to find me on tumblr, I'm [ allyasavedtheday](http://allyasavedtheday.tumblr.com/) :)


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